This was a tallish, sallowish District Superintendent of Police,—belt, helmet, polished spurs and all,—strutting and twirling his dark moustache.
'What fools are these Police Sahibs!' said Kim genially.
E.23 glanced up under his eyelids. 'It is well said,' he muttered in a changed voice. 'I go to drink water. Keep my place.'
He blundered out almost into the Englishman's arms, and was bad-worded in clumsy Urdu.